


Strange Whispers and freaky sneakers

by Youngestsoup



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), I'm way too deep into voltron gdi, Korean Keith (Voltron), M/M, Pidge Uses They/Them Pronouns, Pining?????, Please be gentle, Slow Burn, Spanish Lance (Voltron), This is my fist fanfic plz be gentle, Voltron, ghost au, maybe?? - Freeform, non binary pidge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8041756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youngestsoup/pseuds/Youngestsoup
Summary: Some things are left forgotten, But people should never be thrown away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh lordy i am way too deep into Voltron. this is my first fanfic so please be gentle. thank you : )

Run.

move at a speed faster than a walk, never having both or all the feet on the ground at the same time. That’s what running is defined as.  
It can be good for you; it can mean anything. Happiness, Sadness, or even fear.

You turn a corner sharply, too sharp in fact. A sudden pain ran through your shoulder, but honestly you have no time to worry over a bruise shoulder. That’s complete child’s play. The sound of a slight squeaking came from your old sneakers. You bought them at a thrift store, they grabbed your attention like a cookie on a counter, taunting you.

You want to look back; It’s mocking at you at this point. Who is behind, how far away? Why are they doing this? Questions started to echo in your panicked state. Now that was the real question. Why chase you down? What did you do to them? A sudden memory pinged in like a chime of an old grandfather clock, as if it will be your last memory. You remembered the stars as you walked the dock back. Glistening sweetly in the sky, as if you can reach your hands up and grab it, putting it in your jars of stars to brighten your room. You will miss that.

Your hair whips in the wind, feeling sweat drip down your neck. You need to find some one, a crowd, a bar, a parking lot. Anything with people. But out of all the places you knew in this horrific city, you chose this place. You knew these halls, the creaky doors that open in the morning. The awful scent of the gym. Another corner was turned, slamming one of the double doors open to the insanely large gym. You stopped in your tracks, listening. If you made a sound, you can get caught, if you made a sound, it’s game over for you. If you get caught, they will hurt you.

Crouching down just a bit, you feel your legs shake. Not from the running, from the fear. You’re scared, and you are not easy to be scared. Your hands are clammy. In your case, disgusting. You need to calm down and take a breath, the more you panic, the closer they will get. With a slow and quiet inhale, you gulp just a little, feeling saliva bubble up into your throat. Count to 10.

1  
The foot steps are close.

2  
You remember the smell of your friend’s famous popcorn.

3  
You can hear the whisperings of them.

4  
tears will not save you.

5  
His favorite color was white.

6  
You remember when he broke his arm while trying to catch the neighbor’s cat.

7  
Your eyes are a pretty color.

8  
They will find you.

9  
you like the summer nights.

10  
you remember whe-

* * *

 

“Oh Man Hunk, Not again!” The game over music played loudly on the screen, character A on it’s back, the other jumping high, celebrating as the screen said ‘K.O!!!’ this was so not fair, this was the 9th time Hunk has won. Lance laid back on his palms, hanging his head in shame. It was impossible to beat Pidge at any game. Hunk on the other hand, if he really put his mind to it, he can do anything, which was also pretty terrifying. It was like the two practice to kick his ass when he was not there.“Alright man, you gotta pay up.” now that to Lance’s attention. “ I am not paying up until I have another level.” Lance can feel Pidge’s eyes glare at the back of his head, the sounds of their small fingers stopped typing at their dad’s run down laptop. “You know if you lose another level, you would owe hunk 10 more bucks straight out of your pocket. And he’s splitting it with me.”

“ Why are you splitting it with Pidge? that was never in the agreement!”

“It sounded fair so I decided we should.”

“Both of you, Pidge AND Hunk. Are going to split my money?”

“well yeah. They wanted to be in on the bet too.”

“ Pidge what the hell?”

Their eyes shot up from the screen and laced they fingers together “ Free money is the best money. so stop complaining and hand it over.” And with that, Pidge’s eyes went back to the lap top screen, typing some program furiously, or god knows what they were typing. Lance laid on his back, and let out a pretend like groan as if he was being verbally stabbed by Pidge’s words. “ Both of you, have you no shame? Oh the pain! Woe is me….” His hands covered is ocean like yes, spreading two fingers to see hunk give him that face. the ‘ Stop-misquoting-Shakespeare’ face.

Well that wasn’t going to work. He huffed, pouting heavily. “ Both of my close friends are so greedy, I should report you to the authorities for stealing my money.”

“You basically gambled your money, saying that you could beat Hunk in a simple combat game and I quote ’Nine rounds of this and i’ll be really rich and no time.’” Pidge’s glare fixed on Lance like a steely eyed hawk who was about to swipe down and swipe their prey up. Jeez, someone was in a crabby mood.

Damn, they had Lance in a corner now. And with the 64GB memory Pidge had, there was no way to back out. Hunk batted his eye lashes, making Lance huff so loud that the house would shake; Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a 10 dollar bill for Hunk and one for Pidge. hunk took it gently, while Pidge snatched it away, stuffing it in to their short pocket.

“ I am never betting with you guys again.”

“ Awwww…we love you too.”

Hunk gave a sweet smile, making Lance pout even harder ( or was the even possible at this very moment?)

“Well, gotta skedaddle to work before I am late.”

“Aren’t you like, ten minutes late now?”

“ Ahh, don’t worry. Boss can’t resist my charm this time. She’ll let me off the hook.”

Pidge scoffed in the background, and Lance can feel their eyes rolling with a load of sarcastic on the side “Oh yeah, she’ll fall for your charms one day, Lance.”

“ At least have hope for me! There is a possibility that we could end up together.”

This time it was Hunk’s turn to scoff. “ Oh yeah in like 10 years.”

Lance sighed, ruling the back of his head. “Call me when all of you are done spending my money. it will probably be gone by tonight. Oh the pain….”

the stairs make a creaky sound as Lance went up, and he could have sworn that the two were already plotting use of his money to buy McDonalds.


	2. Hallways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hallways are always long and can lead you to anything. But it can also scare you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus christ ya'll are thirsty for more

Late

God he was running late. Seems like he would need to woo his boss with a couple of excuses. The last excuse Lance used was ‘There was a huge Japanese robot fight on Coral lane.’ Now if his boss was into anime, she would laugh and pat his back. But she just gave that glare, oh that glare could kill a sea of men. 

Honking the horn at the car in front of him, Lance swore loudly, and ran a finger through his hair, tugging it slightly due to his state of panic. When the light finally turned green, he took the phrase ‘pedal to the metal’ very seriously.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Lance was late. Not just the regular 5 minutes late and simply stroll in, with that smirk that was always plastered to his face. He was LATE. Allura tapped her fingers on the desk, looking up at the clock, as if time has completely stopped in it’s tracks. The more her long fingers hit the hard wooden desk, the slower time was going. “Seems that our Lance the fancy pants is late.”

Allura’s eyes wandered to see Coran, stroking his mustache wisely as if he was some sort of high wizard, about to hand out a hard core speech about heading for a quest (Allura really blames lance for talking about Lord of the Rings at work) . With a huff, she sat up, adjusting her shoulders from her previous position, rolling them in a gradual, yet graceful movement. “I Honestly don’t know why I bother. If he shows up, that will be wonderful.”

“Wonder what excuse he will come up with this time, princess.”

“probably ‘my dog ate my homework, so I had to wait until he had to go to the loo’” She chuckled, just thinking about all the excuses Lance came up with. It was like a talent, on the spot he will find something unimaginable and throw it out. Allura heard Coran grunt, and open the blinds of the window, sunlight seeping in like a bleeding pen on paper. 

“well well, the prince has arrived.”

“Oh how splendid.”

Allura heard the door open forcefully and a few hurried foot steps that sounded like a herd of elephants were running off from a pack of lions. The door opened, and Lance, was huffing just a bit and straighten him self out.

“well! The Prince of tardiness has graced us with his presence. What is the excuse this time? Aliens picking up cars in the middle of the road? Or a hoard of cats took over your car and you had no choice to walk here. Do tell me Lance, because I would absolutely love to hear it. I’m all ears.” 

Lance seemed to be in a scattered state, which was a good thing and she can get actual clear answers from him. 

“alright, I admit it. I am a tad late, but you would not BELIEVE what happened. A guy cut me off and I almost got into an accident.”

Allura sat back in the seat, giving him a look, as if she was searching for the real answer. “Never thought you would use a real, appropriate excuse this time. Seems that you are stepping up your game. Very well. Clock in and go unlock the hallway door. There’s a private party going on in the Special events room, and I need you to bring out the rack of chairs. Meanwhile I will be showing the last tour.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

She fixed her long ivory hair, tying it in a long ponytail, and brushed off her shirt. Lance starred at her, almost drooling. God, she was a goddess stuck in a human form. Allura was the supervisor for the Heritage Museum. Every now and then she would give tours, talk about the history and god knows what. Her voice was like a siren’s. Sweet, Gentle, and sometimes a bit scary.

Lance opened one of the drawers, revealing a string with two keys tied around it. One key was labeled ‘hallway’ the other was labeled ‘all the other doors’. He could hear the echo’s of Allura’s voice down the hall, starting the tour of a small group of children from probably an after school camp, or whatever.

Twirling the keys around his index finger, Lance whistled ‘sk8ter boi’ by Avril Lavigne, since it played on the radio non stop. It was like the DJ was held hostage to play it every hour. 

The Hallway, or what he called ‘The hallway of Creepy’ was always dimly lit. To Lance it looked like something from a horror movie, next thing they need was a clown to sit behind one of the pillars to scare people. It always had some sort of dreadful atmosphere. Like something bad had happened in that hallway. Of course Pidge and Hunk are still in the process of making a conspiracy theory up, on how a man in the hall way over dose of helium and you can still hear his high pitch voice roam the halls. Just thinking of the ridiculous theory made lance scoff.

Turning the key just a bit, the sudden ‘click’ made Lance jump a bit. “c’mon man…” ‘there’s nothing wrong with this hallway. It’s all you.’ Yeah that’s right, it was all him. Nothing to worry about. The door squeaked open, and lance turned on the lights quicker than a cat catching a mouse. Lights flickered and suddenly flicked on, creating that dreadful atmosphere, the door shut and Lance started to walk down the hallway, humming quietly. 

Traveling down very quietly, Lance decided to check his cell phone, see if hunk sent a picture of their ‘food’, and what did you know, there was a message labeled ‘McDonalds is better than subway’. “Can’t believe my 20 bucks went towards fucking McDonalds. Why couldn’t it go to Subway or some other shit.” Lance huffed to himself, typing back ‘how could u’ and closed his flip phone. 

Unlocking the storage door, he sighed in relief to see the rack of metal chairs, like it was discovering a new cure. Lance pulled the rack out, grunting just a bit as it rolled out, hitting the side of the doorway. Did he need anything else? Rack of chairs and that’s it right? Lance shrugged to himself, and started to lock the door, until he caught something. At first, he probably thought it was his shadow, scaring the shit out of him. But…that wasn’t his shadow. 

“Coran? Is that you?” 

Nothing.

“Helllooo? Coran, my man are you in here? …. Are you trying to scare me?”

silence.

“Coran. I swear to God, if you are gonna scare me I will pull a can of whoop ass and one karate move hunk showed me.” 

Lance waited. No sound what’s so ever, only the sound of the generator in the other room. He squinted just a bit, turning his head in suspicion. His eyes were glued to the end of the hallway, and he could have sworn that he felt his heart skipped a huge beat. Something, slowly walked by, as if it was walking like a zombie. And that made Lance go. "Oh hell no...not today." He pulled the rack of chairs very quickly, only starring at the old black and white tiles of the floor, not even betting his own conscious 20 bucks to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> never thought i would get a shit load of hits, thank yo guys <3


	3. Coffee and radio ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendships will always last. Till you are born, and till the day you die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pushing these chapters out like crazy man, having a lot of fun too :3C

Mornings  
Why did they even exist, you ask you ask yourself that at least 3 times? Or maybe was it 4? You are already up, just beating the alarm clock by at least 15 seconds. It clicked, and started to play the radio. “Good morning, greetings and salutations to all those early risers out there! Today will be a nice 85 degrees, sun shining, birds singing. And speaking of singing, we have the top song as usual. We’ll be playing ‘Here I go again’ by Whitesnake. So get cracking, get shakin, and head on out that door!” The DJ faded away, and the music started to play slowly.

  
You seriously did not want to get out of bed. With a loud, annoyed sigh, you sit up. Your bones cracked harshly, making you frown just a bit, wondering how that was possible? Your ACDC shirt was wrinkled due to the lack of sleep, but a nice spin in the washing machine should do it.

  
Your toes hung off the bed. Just stepping onto the roughed up carpet made you pout. Like you thought before, why do mornings exist. Just starring at yourself in the mirror, it was like looking back at a monster. Your hair, god your hair was everywhere. Practically going in different directions. One side would be going up; another would be going to the left. Taking the olive green brush, your gritted your teeth as it pulled at the messy hair, feeling the tangles of your hair screaming and begging you to stop. Stopping for a brief moment, you heard a knock at the door. It was probably him.

  
The door opened just a bit, and he just snorted.

  
“Now that…. needs to be entered in a beauty contest.”

  
“Shut up.” You grunted just a bit, and brushed another part of your crazy hair.

  
“hey, I’m gonna go grab us some breakfast. Want anything in particular?”

  
“mm…just coffee, for me.”

  
“Well I know you want that, but how about something to EAT.”

  
Pausing due to your arm being a bit tired from ripping your hair out, you pouted.

  
“I don’t know, guess a donut?”  
You eat of course. But you prefer to skip breakfast and just go with coffee. And even he knows that.

  
He gasped playfully and leaned on the door knob just a bit. “A donut? One simple donut?”

  
“yes.”

  
“wow. I must call the media and inform them.”

  
You rolled your eyes, and he gave a simple chuckle.

  
“Alright, I’ll be back. Make sure to take the trash out.”

  
“Sure thing, mom.”

  
The door closed gently, you smiled just a bit. And Continued brushing your hair.

* * *

 

You flipped through the local newspaper. Nothing interesting, well in your case. The radio was on low, and of course he was tapping his foot so loudly to the rhythm, it distracted you. Him and his music, it was like Romeo and Juliet. Inseparable. ‘Time of my life’ was on the radio for maybe the 28th time? You lost count ages ago, when the song became popular.

  
“How many times have you listened to that song?” you took a sip of your coffee, giving him a look.

  
“it’s a good song! Don’t judge my music.”

  
“oh. I wasn’t judging. But the girl you will take out on that date, will be the judge.” Another swig of the sweet, yet bitter coffee ran down your throat, giving a smirk.  
“Har har, very funny. Girls love that song. It makes them feel happy, and- "

  
“Are you gonna do that scene from Dirty Dancing?”

  
He was silent for a while, and you can tell that he was blushing just a bit. Bingo.

  
“look it’s a good scene and girls really liked that movie. And I just wanna try it.”

  
You couldn’t help it; you did your very best to choke back your laughter. It’s crazy how he, out of all people can be so athletic, a jockish type. But on the inside he was a complete, huge dork. Which, didn’t surprise you. It was cute after all, and you hoped that he will not change after he graduates this year. That would probably be your worst nightmare. He hummed the next song, sitting down next to you at the small table, and took a large sip of your coffee.

  
“Hey!”

  
“Can’t help it, I need to stay awake too.”

  
“you can’t literally go over to the coffee pot, grab a mug and pour your own coffee?”

  
“Well if you want us to be late for the bus, then sure I’ll grab one.”

  
You opened your mouth and closed it. God damn it, both of you will be late for school. And you have enough tardies for skipping a couple classes. Standing up, you grabbed your jacket from the small but convenient coat hanger next to the door. Tugging at the collar and flipping it up just a bit. On the outside you were ready to take on the world! On the inside, you were sleep deprived, and want nothing to do with school. But he was practically making you go, saying that ‘education is good.’ Or ‘you’re smart! And if you can get through one more year, you can do anything.’

  
His words were helpful.

  
He…was helpful.

  
“Earth to space boy, let’s head out. We got 5 minutes before the bus sweeps by.”

  
Snapping out of it, you rolled your eyes just a bit.

  
“yeah, yeah I’m comin.”

* * *

  
The sun, God the sun was too bright. You wanted to hiss like a vampire being burnt by the cruel fire ball in the sky. “It’s September. Why the fuck is it still hot?”

  
“Language, edgy.”

  
“Sorry, mom.”

  
You desperately wished for your sunglasses that you forgot, but that was on you, no time to blame anyone. He stopped, making you stop in your tracks. Your sneakers squeaking just a bit due to how old they were. You sat on the stairs, as he stood adjusting his cool shades.

  
“bet you 20 bucks the bus driver is gonna be late.”

  
He scoffed, shaking his head.

  
“Didn’t you lose the last bet we had?”

  
“I’m assuming you are talking about the previous bet about who could race to the town fountain. See I won that, and you know it.”

  
“oh whatever, you know I won that.”

  
“I’m still waiting for that 10 bucks.”

  
“mhmm. You’ll get it, when your 30 years old.”

  
You gave him a dead pan glare, and he busted into a bellowed laugh. His hand rubbed your hair, messing all your work up.

  
“Hey!”

  
“You try to act so quiet and edgy, but really you’re just a one hell of a crazy kid.”

  
“I’m a year younger than you! Jesus Christ…”

  
“eh, not to me.”

  
The bus slowly pulled up, the engine gearing up as it headed up the small hill that both of you were sitting at. He turned, reaching out a hand

  
“c’mon edgy.”

  
“I told you, I am not edgy.”

  
“you’ll see it when your older. Right now you are just completely oblivious and choose not to accept it.”

  
He…did have a point. Shit, he was always right about these things. The bus doors open, revealing an old, tired man, smoking a cigarette. He went on first, some guys calling out to him. He stopped and looked back at you just a bit, making your heart jump a bit. God those looks he gave you, sometimes scared you. They were absolutely lethal.

  
And maybe, that was ok.

  
Climbing up those three steps, you realized something. He was willing to sacrificed so much for you, and now?

  
You figured out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soon : D


	4. The Mysterious teen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conspiracies, art and treasures. But who is the treasure?

Nights were not bad at work.

At first it can be really packed with people, visiting the gallery of local artists. But, it can get really noisy. Kids screamed loudly as they waited for their mom’s to finish their long ass conversations about god knows what. Maybe they were talking about alien conspiracies, or goblins living in the local creek.  Or maybe something worse! Fashion sense.

Lance put his head back in the chair, drawing in a long breath, and after a good 5 seconds, exhaled out. According to Allura, the door must stay open so if anyone needs to be aided, he can in her own words “spring into action!”. To Lance, there as not much springing, more like he wanted to lay down under the desk and take a nap. The hours were sometimes long, and sitting around making paper balls and desperately trying to beat his latest goal of 7 paper balls that landed in the waste basket. He scooted his chair back, concentrating. Just one, and he can beat that goal; With a good toss, or so Lance thought, he stood up quickly and threw the wadded paper ball high enough. With a light squeeze of his eyes, he heard the waste basket tip over. Jesus, he didn’t use that much force, did he? Opening his Azure eyes, Allura stood in the door way, her arms crossed sternly as if she was going to lay down some cold hard facts to Lance. Her long, slender foot, being placed down very slowly. So she was the one who knocked down his dreams….

“So…. did Lebron James make the shot? Or was he not doing his job?”

A pause. Oh sweet Jesus.

“Ah, c’mon Allura. There is nothing going on here! No one is usually here on a Friday any way….”

“No. You are incorrect. Loads of people walk through here. You however, Lance. Are not even concentrating. I’m not paying you to make loads of bloody paper balls and futz about.” Allura bend down just a bit, and picked up one of the wads of paper, throwing it back to Lance, making his reflexes jump. Jesus, was she a soft ball player in high school?

“Throw all of those away. Are we clear?”

“yeah….”

“ I’m sorry…? What was that?”

“I said “YES.”

“good.”

Her footsteps could be heard loudly, the small heels clicking on the tile by the door as she headed out for the night. She was bewitching, just her being slightly irritated to Lance….it made his heart want to leap out of his throat and make him serenade into sweet happiness. Allura was like a lioness, strong prideful and can be a bit treacherous. With a loud, annoyed and probably the most tired sigh he has ever had in his life. One by one the paper wads of future basketball try outs headed in the trash.

* * *

 

Silence swept over the gallery. For once a loud, screaming artistic, mess to complete tranquility. It was kind of scary. Lance propped up his feet onto the desk (which he’s not supposed to) But living life in the fast lane wouldn’t hurt for once. The door remained opened, as if someone was going to randomly appear, asking where the bathroom was or why the vending machine was turned off. Who knows!

Lance reached into his jacket pocket, opening the flip phone. No messages. Nothing from his parents, Pidge, or even Hunk; And usually hunk always leaves messages! With a grunt, he shut the phone off and placed it back into his pocket.

“Just 15 more minutes and I’ll be out of this hell hole. Grab some Subway, go over to hunks house….” With a shut of his eyes, Lance placed his hands behind his head.

Once again.

Silence.

**_BEEP BEEP BEEP_ **

What…was that?

Lance slowly opened his eyes, and what felt like only a minute, He sat up from the chair.

“What the hell? Oh for fuck’s sakes…. Can’t you just give me a small break, universe?” Lance groaned

If the universe could speak, it would probably laugh at his small request. With a heave of his half asleep legs due to the corners of the desk, Lance practically dragged himself out of the semi comfortable desk chair, Stomping his feet.

“I should fire you, legs. Sleeping on the job, dear god. What will Allura think of you?”

His hands raked through the desk drawer, grabbing the keys. They jangled lightly, as they hit his hands, walking towards the sound. The beeping came from outside of the Hallway, which thank god Because he was not setting a foot in that hallway, at night. It will truly be, a Horror movie.

“Alright you stupid alarm…. time to shut you up for the night.”

Unlocking the small box, he pressed in the code, and with one raging, shrieking beep, the alarm was set. What made it go off? Maybe a malfunction? Weird wires? An Alien?

Lance snorted, locking the box. Yeah right. ‘Get a hold of yourself, Lance. You’re just so fucking tired you can’t even think right.’

Everything was fine. No aliens, no were wolves, nothing out of the normal.

The Gallery was always a nice place to walk in. Lance wasn’t really into art, but he can appreciate it. With a slow walk, he entered back into the gallery. He glanced up to see something behind one of the pillars. A…. shadow? Freezing in his mid-stride, Lance couldn’t make out that much. But, it looked like…a teenager.

“Hey!”

With a faster walk, Lance stopped not that far from this mystery teen. The closer Lance got, the more he made out the other’s face; It was a guy, just like him. His eyes were fixated on a painting, with a breath taking scenery, as if, you can step in it and never return.

“You really shouldn’t be here after hours.”

The kid turned his head just a bit, his eyes were fixated off the painting and onto Lance. His eyes…. good lord. Extreme bags were under his eyes, as if he hasn’t had a wink of sleep.

“…. Can’t a person enjoy gazing at a painting in peace?”

Lance squinted just a bit, trying to make out more of the other’s face. It looked like…. he had a mullet. His clothes were a big ragged, but still fresh.

“…. Did you break in? Are you a robber?”

The Other looked up, his thick eye brows knitting together. “No…?”

“then how did you get in here?”

“that really shouldn’t be important to you.”

“you know I could call the police.”

With a slight shrug, he focused his eyes back to the painting. “doubt you would.”

God, who does this kid think he is? The President’s son?

“…Well. I need to leave and you need to leave. Cuz this place is closed. You know…. Cuz it’s night?”

“…. then why are you still here?”

Lance opened his mouth and shut it quickly. Why…? was he still here, anyway?

“Look kid. Do you really need me to walk you out? Are you afraid of the dark of something?”

“ mm…no.” He paused, and focused on Lance. Dear god, Lance was right. It was a mullet.

“But, thanks for offering.” He gave Lance a small smile. And started to head out the double doors very quietly. The double doors open with a small clang, the kid heading down the stairs.

“…what the fuck what that about?”

Lance shrugged to himself, probably will need to leave Allura a note that a teen got stuck in the building. No biggie. With a quick switch of the light, Lance locked the office door, His back pack swinging from his shoulder, crumbling the jacket’s surface.

Something was bothering him. He did check all the places, the theatre and the hallway when it was still light out. Was that other kid hiding? Lance kept his head down as he traveled out to his old hand me down car in the parking lot. There was no sign of the mysterious mullet head. Not a trace of another car, but his sitting underneath a street lamp; He turned towards the building, His eyes the size of saucers. The office light, he could have sworn he turned off,

Was on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the cliff hanger tho


	5. Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lying won't do you any good. The Truth will always slip out.
> 
> Eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey heyyyy
> 
> thanks for 440+ hits
> 
> That means a lot!

You don’t like school.

 

Scratch that.

 

You despise school. You felt disgusted as you walked down the old hall ways. How people crowded around you as they pushed passed you, muttering a few harsh words under their vile morning breath.

 

He was already ahead of everyone, talking to some one that you probably know. You drifted away, heading up those revolting stairs, packed with even more people. Some were by the window, laughing, chatting, or even whispering as if they will get caught. Others, were kissing like they were pushed into the Princess Bride, sharing love like Wesley kissing Buttercup.

 

 You seriously want to throw up. You can see the young couple’s tongues clashing, as if their muscles were enraged with pure war. With a scrunch of your face, you continued to walk up the stairs, over hearing the couple giggle at some sort of delight. Couples, they always made you feel queasy.

* * *

It was like time was teasing you.

 

No matter how many times you look up the clock, only a minute has passed by. You could have sworn that maybe 30 minutes went out the door as the teacher jabbered on about The 19th century. But of course, time was being a total jerk. Your head lowers just a bit, the caffeine was fading off, curse you coffee for not be served in the cafeteria. You were running on basically nothing, your will slipping away as it kept screaming at you to stay awake. The teacher’s voice failing to reach you.

 

Something snapped you awake a little too quickly, like a hard slap in the back.  The bell. Your squeezed your eyes shut, and then opened them, shaking your head. Half conscious, you wandered down the hall way, desperately waking your self up.

 

The Locker room was always smelly. It stunk of sweat, hormones, and drama. And every time you took a step into that awful room, you bit your lip, not wanting to gag loudly. You know that he’s in here, but it was like an ocean of sweaty male high schoolers, and there was no end. Turning a corner, you saw a smidgen of his hair, practically fluffed out due for him sliding his shirt back on.

 

your face makes a smirk as you tried to sneak up just a bit more.

 

“you should get new shoes if you want to scare me.”

 

Fuck.

 

With a loud sigh, you leaned on one of the lockers.

 

“You sound unimpressed by my sneak level.”

 

“you would make a bad thief. Your shoes give you away.”

 

“Don’t dis on my shoes.”

 

“too late~.” His voice sung. Your once confident, sneaky face dropping just a bit. He turned towards you, His green shirt showing his muscles just a bit. He seemed sweaty. Then again, having gym first period would probably make you sweat 10 times more, probably through the whole day.

 

“you look like a bus hit you.”

 

With an agreeable nod and grunt, your head laid back onto the locker, closing your eyes once again.

 

“I couldn’t sleep last night.”

 

“why’s that?”

 

“...no reason.”

 

“you shouldn’t tell lies.”

 

You can not only see his face, but feel it. He had the most concerning face. His thick like eye brows knitting together. He can read you like a dictionary. He can tell when you are sleepy, upset, angry. It should honestly be labeled as a super power from comics. But, you can’t let him in. Not on this. This was your problem, and he has too much on his plate. You shouldn’t bother him on this.

 

“I’m not lying. I’m just…tired.” A lie.

 

“tired of what?”

 

“I don’t know. I’ve been drowsy for a while. I’m fine.” Another lie.

 

“Why do you lock me out? You know you can tell me.”

 

Wrong. You can’t tell him. He’ll judge you. And probably… He won’t ever talk to you again. Or even worse.

 

“I’m just tired, that’s all.” You sure were on a roll today.

 

His eye brow cocked up just a bit, like getting caught eating a cookie from the cookie jar. You can tell him anything, right? So after all these years that you have known him, the wrestling, the laughing, the bets, the smiles. You trusted him, and for some odd reason? He trusted you. You felt a hand on the top of your head, rubbing your head, messing up your hair.

 

“Why do you do this.”

 

“because it’s fun to mess up the 2 hour work you have done on your crazy hair. Gives you something to fix.”

 

How dare he mess your work. You wake up early because of your cursed hair, and fixing it was like feeding a monster on top of your head.

 

“you know one of these days, I’m gonna climb over your ‘I’m fine’ wall and you will be 30% happier with your life.”

 

“Oh dream on. Put that down in your “dreams to achieve” book.”

 

“as a matter a fact, I think I will.”

 

He has to be joking, right?  He unzipped his back pack, pulling out a small note book. You know this notebook. He always writes down what needs to be planned, and personal thoughts. You caught him once writing about some girl he was crushing on, something about her hair that he liked. He wrote quickly, making a small crease in the page, as if was something special. He showed the small note, the scribbled words going to the edge.

 

“You sure have a difficult goal in front of you.”

 

“I like difficult things.”

 

“It appears so.”

 

He closed the small book, packing it away into his bag. You can feel the determination in the atmosphere, slowly bustling at you.

 

“C’mon, edgy. Time for another day in Chemistry.”

 

“I’m not edgy. I tell you this everyday.”

 

“And you can tell me that until the day you die, and I still won’t listen.”

 

He slung his arm around you, pushing you just a bit to the door, he waved to a few of his friends, combing their wet hair in the mirror, another batch talking about God knows what.

For some reason, your face felt like it was on fire, and there was no way to put this disastrous burning of your face away. You felt your nails dig into your palms, Gulping a little too loudly.

 

“you alright?”

 

He stopped in his tracks. Again, giving a soft concerning look.

 

You can’t let him know. You can’t let anyone know. With the best smile you can afford of lying, your own eyes focusing on his.

 

You can only think of one thing to say.

 

“I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is a bit short.  
>  u'll figure out soon why > v >

**Author's Note:**

> Ohoooo here we go. hope ya'll enjoy!


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